i'm not in love
by nerdie
Summary: Dan was in love with Phil. He didn't know when it happened, but it was really starting to fuck up his life.
**My hand slipped and this is all i have but feedback would be gr8 i suppose ahh end me pls**

Dan was in love with Phil. He doesn't know when it happened, but he does know that it was making his life increasingly difficult. Dan could barely stand to be in the same room as him because his eyes would always stray to Phil's lips, and think about how they'd feel on his. Or his hands, and how their fingers would interlock. Or his legs, and how they'd tangle together as they curled under the duvet together on a cold, misty morning.

Yeah, he was in deep.

Phil was his _best friend_ , for fuck's sake. They were living together, and Dan had to deal with this overbearing feeling of _want_ that he could hardly control. He _wanted_ to cuddle, he _wanted_ to kiss, he _wanted_ to be _loved_.

But how could he be so selfish as to tell Phil all this, and risk destroying the relationship they had now to bits. Dan finally had a best friend after years of being lonely, and to fall for him seemed just too cruel. And now they were in the same house, caging Dan in with his _stupid feelings_.

Dan had even exercised the thought that maybe it was _because_ Phil was his first best friend, that these feelings of...these feelings he had were just a fabrication of his mind, his lonely mind that finally had someone to confide in, and that was the reason it was so infatuated with Phil Lester. But then Dan would look at Phil's eyes, and think about how he'd sit for _hours_ , just to look into those pools of blue and pluck every secret from under the water. And Dan would think about just how much he wanted to sit on the couch, cuddled under a blanket, and watching a film at night so that he may admire Phil's features and run his hand though the raven hair.

Needless to say, the idea was discarded, and Dan was left back at square one.

Phil was definitely not helping with the matter, either. Every day it seemed to worsen, and Dan would fall that much more for the cheeky smile and bright eyes and soothing voice and even that stupid widespread finger wave. Despite this, Dan made himself a promise that he _would not_ tell Phil how he felt.

So he was just going to have to live with it.

 **X X X**

"Dan," a gentle voice cooed. Dan shook his head slightly, and turned over, the sheets rustling in accordance with his previous movement. "Dan, wake up. You need to wake up because it's already nine o'clock and we have a show in two and a half hours." Phil giggled as Dan finally mustered up the strength to lift himself from the bed, and he could only imagine what his hobbit hair looked like. "Do you want tea or coffee?" Dan looked up, and his heart actually _fluttered_. What the _fuck._

Phil was standing in the doorway, the light from the hallway illuminating him from behind as Dan's room was dark. It was early in the morning and Phil looked slightly groggy even though he sounded completely awake. He was wearing his glasses and still had bedhead. He looked absolutely adorable and it pissed Dan off to no end.

Dan groaned loudly, looking over to the clock on his bedside table. It read: 9:17. "Coffee. It's early and if I don't have coffee, the show isn't gonna be very lively." He swung his legs over his bed as he threw the duvet off to the side. He'd make it later, maybe when he wasn't so dead.

"Understandable." Phil chuckled before walking away, and Dan definitely did _not_ look at his ass as he did. Rubbing a hand over his face he forced himself to get up and get ready for the show. A simple clothing choice of black jeans and a comfortable jumper, as winter was starting to show its head and the days grew chillier.

Dan made his way to the kitchen and sunk down in a chair, crossing his legs as he slumped down onto the table.

"A bowl of Shreddies will do good for that sleepiness," Phil's voice chirped.

Dan lifted his head from the table. "I will never understand your fetish with cereal, Phil."

"It's not a fetish! It's true love," he said, placing a bowl in front of Dan. Dan shrugged but looked down at the bowl and began to eat. Maybe if he ate Shreddies all the time he'd become them or something, and Phil would love him just as he loved his Shreddies.

Okay, no. That's weird. Delete. Delete it. Delete it _now_.

 **X X X**

The show went on fine. They laughed, they joked, it was the same as every other radio show they'd done. But it was when they were going home that things got crazy.

They finished the show as per usual and had gathered their belongings and were heading out the door. They were walking down the street and stopped at the crosswalk. The light flickered to green, and, since they were the only two there, they began to trek across the painted white lines on the road.

Phil was chattering excitedly about something, but all Dan could see were those beautiful lips of his, moving quickly and curling in smiles halfway through sentences. But then Dan hears something vaguely, and he's looking at Phil's back, but then he's looking at the car _speeding towards Phil_ , _Dan's_ Phil, Phil Lester, Phil who's _right in the line of the speeding car_ that doesn't look like it's gonna be stopping anytime soon, _that_ Phil, Phil Phil _Phil_ , and then Dan is _running_ and he's _shoving_ Phil out of the way.

The car roars by, and he and Phil are on the ground. They're on the hard cement, and a few kind pedestrians had began to waddle their way out into the street where the two stay on the ground, breathing fast and hard.

Dan shakes off his shock. " _Phil."_ Dan's hand flutters aimlessly over Phil's body without touching anything. His mind is reeling and his limbs are shaking. "Oh my god, Phil, are you injured? Are you safe? Jesus christ, what the _fuck_ was that bastard _doing_? Phil, I thought you were going to be hit, oh my god, Phil-"

"Dan!" Phil's soft hand lands on his shoulder, cupping it and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Dan, it's okay, you pushed me out of the way, you _saved_ me. Alright, mate?"

Dan blinked owlishly. "Safe? Right, I pushed you. I pushed yo- You're bleeding, Phil. Phil, you're _bleeding_. God, did I do that to you? I'm sorry, Phil, I panicked and-"

"Hush, Dan. _Daniel_ ," Phil's voice hardened slightly as he took his hand off Dan's shoulder and onto his wrist. "Dan, it's okay. It's just a scratch. I would've been dead if you hadn't pushed me out of the way. And besides, you're bleeding, too." He shook Dan's wrist a bit. Dan looked down and concluded that, yes, he was also bleeding. His hands were scraped and dirty, but he couldn't find it in him to care. The adrenaline was wearing off, and it left Dan incredibly tired, and wow, he could really use a nap right about now.

"Alright, how's about we get up now, because we're kind of holding up traffic," Phil said and laughed, and _of course_ he'd laugh in this kind of situation even though Dan's heart was beating _so fast_ that he thought it may legitimately leap straight from his chest and onto the street. Dan nodded, detached, and the two stumbled to their feet. Dan was pretty out of it the rest of the way home, after Phil had generously thanked the people who had come to check on them and assured them that, yes, they were okay, they were just going to head home and rest, apologized to the drivers for the holdup (what the fuck, though? Like they almost died and Phil was apologizing?), and hailed a cab after they had both decided that they really didn't want to walk the rest of the way.

They reached the flat without any more altercations.

"Dan?" Phil asked tentatively after they had shed their jackets and made their way to the couch to make good on Phil's statement of resting.

Dan nodded minutely. "Mm?"

"Dan, we should probably clean your hand before it gets infected. Stay right here, and I'll get the first aid kit from the closet, yeah?"

Dan just nodded. Phil had almost died, and he was thinking about a few goddamn scratches?

Phil came back, and the couch dipped as he sat down. The first aid kit was set down gently onto the coffee table. "Sit up for me, wouldya, Dan?"

Dan did as Phil said, and Phil immediately grabbed his wrist with a tender hand. He dabbed it with a damp paper cloth, and spread a disinfectant gel atop it, before covering it in one of the large, square band-aids. "All set!" he chirped.

"You too," Dan murmured.

"Pardon?"

"Your cheek. You need a band-aid, as well. I'll do it for you."

Phil laughed. "Funny, I'd forgotten about it completely."

Dan just shook his head and beckoned the older closer. Phil complied. Dan mimicked Phil's process, but instead put a smaller, regular band-aid across the cut.

Dan laid back down on the sofa, and looked over his shoulder expectantly at Phil. Phil grinned slightly, before pressing himself flush again Dan's lean back, and snaking his arms to Dan's torso. Dan barely reacted. It felt normal, but he knew he'd probably freak out about it later, but for now, he was just going to let it happen, and take a nap to try and wash away the anxiety he was currently feeling.

Minutes passed and Dan could feel himself slipping under, but awakened when he heard Phil utter his name.

"Dan." Soft, tiny, scared. Nothing like what he sounded like ten minutes prior.

"Yeah, Phil."

"I could've died. We could've _died_."

"Yes, but we didn't."

"What if you weren't fast enough?"

"Shut up, Phil. I'll always be fast enough, okay?"

"Yeah."

" _Understood_ , Phil?"

"Yeah."

"Go to sleep, then."

"Yeah."

The room was silent, and Dan began to slip again. But not before he felt something wet drip onto his back, and Phil's nose nuzzle into his neck. His body shook, and Dan knew he was crying, but Phil didn't have to know that.

They woke up at around three o'clock. By that time, Dan's shirt was dry.

 **X X X**

Dan woke up with a start. A dream. A dream? Which meant... He scrambled out of bed and burst into Phil's room. Nothing. Just a made bed. No Phil. Phil was... Phil was dead. Killed in a car accident. Dead on impact. Dan _remembered_.

He had awoken in a hospital with minor injury and was released that afternoon. But he had come home to an empty flat, because he wasn't fast enough. He wasn't fast enough and now Phil was gone.

Dan stumbled to the bed before collapsing onto it, rolling over to his stomach and squishing his face into Phil's pillow. It smelled like him. Tears leaked out of Dan's eyes and onto the fabric of the pillow cover.

"Phil," he moaned. "Phil!"

"Dan?" a voice called out. Dan lifted his head up.

"Phil? Phil! _Phil_!"

"Dan! Dan, wake _up_!" Dan awoke with a cry.

"What's happened?" he asked, disoriented.

"I dunno, you tell me. I heard you screaming. Were you having a bad dream?"

The figure standing in front of Dan finally registered. "Phil!" Dan threw his arms around Phil's long torso and dragged him towards him and the bed. "Fuck, Phil. You were _dead_. I wasn't fast enough," Dan murmured into Phil's night shirt. "Thank fuck you're alive." Dan was going to regret his next words in the morning most likely. "I don't know what I'd do if you'd died."

Phil smiled sadly. "Dan, weren't you telling me to shut up about you not being fast enough just this afternoon?"

"Shut up, you dingus."

"Sorry, Dan. Do you want to go back to bed?"

Dan shook his head. "Stay with me," he pleaded. Phil pried Dan's arms from his midsection before making shooing motions in his direction. "Well, scoot over, then."

Dan shimmed to the other side of the bed, and Phil lifted the duvet and crawled under. Oh how Dan used to dream of this. The context, maybe a bit different, but the same position. The same calm, sleepy atmosphere. Oh how Dan craved this. He craved Phil's touch.

"I was having a bad dream, too."

"Hmm," Dan said, already half asleep. "Tell me about it."

"You had saved me, like you did. But you hadn't gotten yourself out of the way. You got hit. And I had to watch you die."

"Seems a bit dark for you, Phil. Your personality is too adorable for something that dreary." Dan smiled into his pillow as he turned to face away from Phil. "Don't worry, Phil. I'm not going anywhere as long as you promise the same."

"'Course, Dan. You know I'd never leave you."

And fuck if it didn't make Dan's heart race faster, even if he was already fading into sleep.

"Good night, Dan," Phil mumbled.

But Dan was already asleep.

 **X X X**

Days passed. Weeks. A month. Things went back to normal, but they never brought up that day again. Not Phil's crying. Not Dan's emotional breakdown. Not their dreams. Not their words exchanged. Dan didn't know whether or not to be happy, but he dealt.

He also dealt with Phil becoming increasingly more adorable (and annoying because how the fuck can one human being be so cute?) if even possible.

They made videos, they edited, they did the radio show. But then everything, of course, went to hell, because why the fuck couldn't Dan's life be _easy_ for once.

"Phil?" Dan called, looking in the open refrigerator door. "Do we have any milk left or did you waste it all on your cereal?"

"It's _neve_ r a waste if it's for cereal, Dan!" Phil yelled back. "But yeah, we're kind of outta milk. MInd going out and gettin' some? I'm editing a video."

Dan shook his head in fond exasperations. "Yeah, whatever. Leave it to _me_ to be the man of the house, Phil!" He closed the fridge door and grabbed a jacket before stepping out in the damp, chilly night. He closed the door to the flat and headed down to the local market on foot. The wind was refreshing and he was hoping that a walk would clear his mind. He still practically thought about Phil twenty-four hours a day, and that needed to change. He couldn't live in that house and feel the way he did. It was complete torture, but he was too selfish to let Phil go.

Dan reached the market relatively quickly and bought his milk and an extra sweet treat to bring back to share with Phil. He stepped past the doors and began walking, the moon shining down on him. He shivered as the night had grown colder in the small amount of time he'd been out, and he was passing by a narrow alley when he felt a tug on his hood and he was dragged into the dank alleyway.

His eyes widened as he looked around at the four guys in dark hoodies and jackets (usually Dan's aesthetic but in this situation he was quite hating them) formed a sort of deformed circle around Dan, cutting off his means of escape.

"Can I help you, mates? Want an autograph or something?" he joked. People had always told him his big mouth would get him into trouble one day. Dan's quibble was met with a punch to the lower side of his jaw, and his mind exploded with pain. He dropped his milk and chocolate and fell to the gravel. "What the _fuck_?" he seethed, holding his jaw with a steady hand.

"Fork over all the money you've got, and you may leave here uninjured. For the most part," the tallest one spoke. He was maybe an inch or two taller than Dan, and definitely more fit than him. The other three weren't that much shorter, but they were still in better shape. Even if they weren't, Dan wouldn't have been able to fight four of them off.

"Why should I?" Dan regretted the words as soon as they'd come out. The man's laugh sounded like sandpaper and he wound up his leg and drove it harshly into Dan's torso. He coughed in surprise, and started to bend over. "Fuck, Jesus, _alright_ ," he hissed. He dug into his back pocket and slipped out his old, fraying leather wallet. He was so glad that he'd only had maybe thirty pounds with him, and no card. "It's all I have with me."

One of the guys swiped it from his grasp and quickly scanned through the contents. He took the money out of the pouch and dropped the ugly wallet to the ground. "Not that much here, buddy," he sneered.

"I _told_ you. It's all I _have_ ," Dan ground out, still reeling from shock from the first two hits.

"Maybe we need to make sure you're telling the truth, mate," the tall leader jeered.

"Now hold on a second, lads, this is-" Dan cut off abruptly as a heavy boot connected with his nose. Blood began to pour out and Dan held in in a feeble attempt to stop it. " _Fuck_!" Out of the corner of his eye he saw the leader nod at him to his other cronies, and Dan knew he was in deep shit. "Wait-"

His words were lost as the others advanced on him and there was a foot on his ankle, grinding his bones together painfully, a boot in his gut stealing the breath from his lungs, a rough uppercut followed by a left hook as he attempted to stand.

Dan got to his feet unsteadily, and was immediately against the brick wall of the alley. His head smashes into the wall and it hurts like hell, and he thinks he feels it start to bleed. One of their buff arms was at his neck, suspending him on his tip toes and cutting off his air stream and holy _shit_ Dan couldn't _breathe_ -

"Check him," he heard a voice order in his ringing ears. Then there were hands in his jacket pockets and then his butt pockets and no those hands did _not_ feel good there.

"Nothing, Nick," another voice said as the ringing increased in volume.

"Then, I think we're done here," what Dan distinguished as the leader's voice (Nick apparently, he should probably remember that for further reference but he couldn't really _breathe_ so how was he supposed to stay alive let _alone_ remember that name-). And finally the arm was _gone_ and Dan could _breathe_ but fuck, it _hurt_.

"Alright, mate, thanks for the cash. It was a big help." His four attackers gave one last sneer and Dan coughing harshly on his hands and knees and then they were gone.

Dan was partially glad he hadn't taken his phone so the thugs hadn't taken it, but he couldn't call Phil and the flat was just so far away. So Dan lets himself catch his breath another minute, and fiddles into the inside of his jacket-they hadn't looked there-and found a few pounds so he trudged painfully, dragging a mostly useless ankle behind him, towards the nearest phone he could find and then he was inside and calling Phil's cell.

"Pick up, Phil," Dan mutters hoarsely under his breath. Phil picks up a few rings later, and Dan is filled with relief.

"Hello?" Phil's voice sounds groggy, like he'd fallen asleep while editing-which he probably had seeing as he did it all the time and it must be extremely late by now-but it lessens Dan's fear, even just a little. But the pain is still thundering through his body and he sounds pathetic but he can't really bring himself to care.

"Phil?" He talks as loud as he can but his throat is _killing_ him and he doesn't think it should hurt this much but then again some fucking _bastard_ strangled him in an alley and-no. Stay focused. Get help. Talk to Phil. "Phil?" he says again.

"Dan? You sound awful, and you've been gone for a while now? Did something happen?"

"Um, a little? I kinda got jumped and oh _shit_! The _milk_! I forgot the _milk_! I dropped it back in the alley! I should go get it, shouldn't I? We need milk and I can't believe I forgot it!" Dan is speaking nonsense but his head is pounding and he doesn't think it's stopped bleeding which is probably bad. But forgetting the milk is bad, too. Phil needs it for his cereal.

"Dan, shut up! The milk doesn't matter! What do you mean you got jumped? Are you okay?"

"Um, not too bad, I suppose. But can you come and pick me up? I'm having a hard time walking."

"Yeah, of course! Where are you?" Dan zones out and doesn't answer for a few seconds, but then Phil's voice is back, fiercer, _harder_. " _Where are you_?" Dan gives him a general description because he can't quite remember the street name but it's better than nothing. Thankfully, Phil seems to know where he is and tells him to wait for him and _do not move, Dan. Under no circumstances should you move._

Dan hangs up and gets out of the booth. He sinks the the ground with his back against the door, and wipes at his mouth when he realizes he's got blood all over his face. He gingerly touches the back of his head, and it's wet and squishy so he decides to _not touch that_ because _ow_.

 **tbc i guess**

 **i have more planned but i wanted some feedback? like idk, are they too out of character? and also forgive my navigation things and stuff like i have no idea if they walk to places like grocery stores and shit so (can u tell i'm not british bc 1/10 cannot)**

 **but yeah, feedback is gr8, phan is gr8, my writing is not**


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